I'll Return Someday
by JadeHeart
Summary: Love finds the battlefield a difficult place to bloom, and the machine of war will most likely crush such a flower beneath its wheels
1. Chapter 1

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 1

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast other OCs)

Summary: Love finds the battlefield a difficult place to bloom, and the machine of war will most likely crush such a flower beneath its wheels.

Author's NotesA friend of mine was recently overjoyed to get this series on DVD as he thought it was great. That meant that I have been subjected to watching various episodes through the season. It's not that I dislike it, but I just never paid much attention to it as a programme previously. However, I began to get a few ideas and decided to try and write something relating to it, to see how it might turn out, although I'm not good at 'military speak' or anything like that. I am more than happy to hear readers' thoughts on it, if you think I managed to keep the individuals in character, or even if it just doesn't do the series justice at all.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 1

The ground seemed to rise on its own, until two eyes gleamed in the darkness. A hand was raised and pumped once, then swung horizontally to the right. Two more mounds rose and slipped off in that direction. After a few moments one returned, beckoning, and four more rose and followed. Keeping to the shadows the seven figures moved silently through the darkness, barely a leaf stirring at their passing. Guns were held at the ready and eyes peered through the darkness, whilst ears strained to catch the slightest sound. A number of times they would stop, almost as though controlled by one mind. They would wait, poised for action, and then carefully move forward again.

Suddenly, some distance behind them, three fireballs erupted into the night, and the loud 'whump' of the explosions reached them. As if that was the awaited signal, the seven people threw caution to the wind and ran for their lives towards a dark, bulky shape in the distance.

Reaching their ship, two flung themselves inside as soon as the door was open wide enough to allow passage, whist the rest yanked the camouflage netting from the craft and quickly piled in after. As the last one entered and the door snapped shut, the engines were lifting the ship from the ground.

Speeding towards space, they strapped themselves into their positions. It was going to be touch and go. They had been able to slip past the patrols when coming in stealthily, but now those same ships would be on the alert, and they would have to be very lucky to get by unscathed. Sure enough their ship rocked with the concussion blasts of the Chigs' fire. There was little talk, except for called orders here and there. Every person knew their job too well to warrant unnecessary chatter. Finally they managed to outrun their pursuers, with luck and more importantly, skill.

"What's the damage?" Kitra said, unbuckling and standing up, making her way towards the back.

Van looked up. "Shields are barely holding. If we run up against any more we've had it."

"A certainty?"

"A pretty good possibility."

She nodded, eyes running over lights and dials. "What about the rest?"

"Communications has been damaged, we've got a slight time delay. Shouldn't be a problem. The rest is the usual."

"Fine. Get on to what you can. Shields are priority." She turned to the others. "The rest of you, strip off and clean up."

For the next two hours they worked. Most of the minor damage was able to be repaired immediately. Some would have to wait till they found a safe haven. They studied the information banks to find such a place.

"This has just come through." Van said, tapping the screen before him. "I've got word that the 'Saratoga' is in this sector. We've been advised to contact them and get repairs. Orders will come through there."

"Suits me. Be good to get off this bucket of bolts."

Soon the "Saratoga" came on the detector screen. "There she is." Van said, staring out into space.

"Fire up the com." Kitra said, leaning on the back of the seat. "Better let them know we're coming."

Just then the 'Saratoga's' hail reached them, and they prepared to answer.

"Our detectors have picked something up!"

"What is it?" the Commodore asked.

"I don't know. It doesn't fit the usual Chig ships, but they're not answering the hail."

"Then let's not take the chance. Fire a warning shot."

"Aye, aye!" The private fired as ordered.

"What the...!"

Kitra saw the light racing towards them in a blink of an eye before the impact. She was thrown backwards, to collide with the bulkhead solidly, catching a ringing blow on the back of the head that made her see stars and her vision faded in and out of blackness. She pushed herself upright, and back to the front.

"The bastards fired on us!" Flece shouted, as they all grabbed for hand holds and interior lights dimmed.

"Shields are down! We're losing the helm!" Van called across the erupting noise of electricals shorting and the emergency klaxon.

Kitra slammed the com button down, as sparks leapt across the control boards. Another hit and they were finished.

"What the hell are you doing, Saratoga!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, as the emergency repairs kicked in. "Most wait for a reply before they shoot you out of the sky!" She turned from the console "Shut that off!" she shouted, and the klaxon went mercifully silent. The emergency lighting and life support, mingled with smoke, made the surroundings looked ethereal.

There was a lengthy crackle and then finally a voice reached them. "Identify yourself."

"The guerrilla fighter, 'Predator'! We were told to dock with you! Now, are you going to let us on board since you've succeeded in blowing our flight controls into space particles?"

Another pause before a reply came through. "Docking procedures in place. You're clear to enter."

"You're going to have one hell of a repair bill!" was her parting shot, releasing the com and facing her tired crew. "Strap in and let's try and set us down in one piece." She strapped herself back into her seat.

Back on the 'Saratoga', the Commodore and private looked at each other in surprise. This was definitely not military procedures.

Colonel McQueen and the 58th were waiting at the docking bay. The crippled ship had limped into dock, listing badly, and they had been notified that the crew were coming up to this level via the lift. As the doors opened they were greeted by a very unusual group.

Five people stood in a diamond formation, each carrying weapons. The point was a young woman; hair very short at the front and sides, the rest hung in a long tail tied up at the back. A band was about her forehead, as was a headset. They all wore loose combat trousers and long boots, with only singlets. Every one of them was dirty and grimy, with sweat-marked clothes. Against the military crispness of the 58th, they looked like refugees. They warily stepped out, fanning out behind the girl in front, who was obviously their spokesperson.

McQueen stepped forward to meet them. As of yet he knew very little about these unexpected guests. During the docking process, he had placed a call through the data banks for information on the ship, 'Predator'. He now knew they held an unusual status with the army and were requested for special assignments. There was also a notation to all to provide whatever assistance was required. He would have to wait till later to get more details.

"Welcome to the 'Saratoga'."

"Some welcome!" the girl said sharply. "You've blown our guidance system completely, and every other system that was half way to being repaired has gone. You've just tripled our repair time! What do you think you were playing at?"

The Colonel wasn't the only one taken aback by this outburst.

"We followed normal military procedure. You did not respond to the hail, and so it was deemed you could be the enemy. A warning shot was fired."

"Your warning shot nearly blew us all to kingdom come." she replied, hefting her rifle onto her shoulder with ease. "We barely had any shields left. After that, we had none. If you had continued to follow your 'military procedures' and fired a second time we'd all be space dust."

"Without your identification call we could only make the assumption that you were hostile."

"Our com system had been damaged, along with just about everything else on the ship. That caused a time lag. We replied as soon as we received your hail. If you had checked your diagnostics better, you'd have picked up that we emitting enough strange readings to indicate that we could be badly damaged, which could slow things up. Brush up on your 'military procedures' for that one."

"Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?"

"Looks like someone has to. So far I wouldn't give you a glowing report!"

By this time, the 58th were becoming angry with her arrogance, even if the Colonel was showing little emotion.

West could hold his tongue no longer. "Military procedures keep you alive. If you bothered to follow any, you'd know that! What makes you think you can just come in here and speak like that to us? We could have been anyone, you wouldn't know. Our military procedures at least teach us not to take for granted that you're in friendly territory." he said, spurred by her disdain.

"Exactly. And you shouldn't assume that you know who you're meeting. I don't need military procedures to teach me that."

"You're the one at the disadvantage here!"

She raised an eyebrow. "You think so. If your military procedures are so good, then you shouldn't have made this mistake. Look behind you."

McQueen looked in her eyes and then glanced behind, as did the others. Two figures, dressed as she was, stood concealed against the bulkhead, weapons trained on the backs of the 58th. McQueen turned back and the girl smiled.

"I learnt long ago that you never put all your fighters in one place. No matter where you are. And you always have backup." She jerked her head and her two people moved forward to join them. "Now, have you got some people who can start repairs on our ship?"

McQueen pressed the intercom and called four engineers to the docking hanger. The girl indicated with her head again and two of her people moved back to the lift to return to the ship.

"I'll show you where you can clean up and get something to eat."

"That would be appreciated."

The 58th moved to one side as the motley group walked past.

Kitra watched the brief interplay from the door. She had given her people strict instructions that they were not to have anything to do with the personnel on this ship but for the bare necessities. This was difficult to do, as the 58th had obviously been assigned as their watchdogs. She could understand that duty, it was no less than she would have done had the positions been reversed, but the 58th were young and full of bravado, and her people were just the right sort for trouble to come to a boil. Van was currently in a war of words with the Asian boy. It was only words at this point, but she could see that it would come to blows within the next few moments.

Sure enough, the Asian swung at Van, who responded in kind. The corresponding team mates rushed forward to separate the combatants, whilst Kitra ran across the intervening space and forced herself between them as they were pulled apart.

"Enough!" she commanded, in a voice that demanded obedience.

The two combatants were released by their peers, but continued to glare at each other. Without another word, Kitra swung a backhanded blow and struck Van across the face, spinning him to the ground. She would brook no disobedience to her orders. Van knew this, and accepted the punishment. However the 58th looked on in amazement. This sort of harsh discipline was new to them.

"What ..." Wang began, when a second backhand blow knocked him to the ground.

"The orders, for both parties, were to cause no trouble." Kitra glared at them both, daring anyone in either group to make a move. "Remember that." and she turned and stalked out of the room.

Van got to his feet first and moved away with his peers. West helped Wang to his feet, where he stood rubbing his jaw, looking at the door Kitra had disappeared through.

"Man, can she punch!"

"That's one way to keep discipline." West said.

"I don't get it." Hawkes said. "Some of those people are obviously older than her, and the guys aren't exactly runts. Any of them would be able to knock her flat. How come she's the leader? And they put up with that sort of thing?"

Vansen shrugged. "Obviously they know something that we don't. Besides, she obviously keeps discipline pretty tight. And doesn't take arguments about it."

"You what!" Kitra said shocked. "You've got to be kidding! They're kids!"

"They are marines, and some of the best." McQueen said firmly.

"They are kids who are full of military procedures, and that's all! They don't know anything about our kind of fighting!"

"They have received training on guerrilla tactics. It will be up to you to use them in the best possible way. You've seen the orders. You need help on this one, and they are the best."

"Damn! This is the last time I let someone else pick my trouble spots and call the shots! Okay, we'll take them. But they had better be good, and they had better know how to take orders."

"Okay, that's the target. You know what to do." Her own people nodded and moved off, leaving the 58th there. She stood with her hands on her hips, examining them.

"I've got to take you along. I could do with the extra hands, but I'm going to make some things very clear right now, so listen up." She looked at each of them with her hard emerald-green eyes. "From this point on, I'm your commanding officer. I give an order, you obey it. Immediately, without question, no hesitation. On the trip down and back, you stay out of the way. My people know what they are doing, they don't need you getting in the way. You strap yourself in and you stay quiet until we touch down. Once down, if you don't know what to do, ask one of them and then do exactly what they say. Don't try to go up the chain of command. Consider every one of them as a higher ranking officer. So if they tell you to do something, do it. Let's move out!"

They were hitting the dirt, crawling along on their stomachs more often than not, as the firing was all around them. The ship wasn't far now but the Chigs had located them. Kitra was cursing under her breath. The 58th was good - in its own way- she didn't deny that, but they didn't have the skills her group did, and they had held them up and jeopardised their mission the entire time. Her orders and strategy was based on the skills and abilities of her people, and the 58th didn't fit into that. She ached with the knowledge that she had miscalculated.

She signalled the final rush. It was now or never. Her people were fanned out to try and offer smaller targets, the 58th tried to bunch together. Her people had been allocated 'buddies' in an attempt to provide support to the 58th personnel. Now they were putting her people in danger as well.

Damn them, she muttered to herself, as they rose to their feet and ran for the ship, firing as they went. Laser fire seared the ground around them, from the sides and back. Her group held a rear guard action, each taking turns to lay down a covering fire.

Damphousse ran forward and stumbled, going down. Rolling sideways she could see a Chig taking aim, when suddenly it blew apart and a hand yanked her to her feet, pushing her ahead. A flash of light and a grunt made her glance behind, and she saw the red-haired guerrilla go down, a gaping hole in her back. The Chig who had just fired, blew apart and another figure raced forward, grabbed his fallen comrade, throwing her over his shoulder, and pushing Damphousse forward again, screaming "Go, go!" as he turned to fire again.

.Kitra had seen her team-mate go down. She was always aware of where all of them were positioned. West and Hawkes were firing back at the Chigs, trying to slow them down, but had allowed themselves to be cut off. She cursed again, but continued to run and shoot. Everyone else had reached the ship, Van and West making a run for it, as Hawkes and Bel followed, still firing. A Chig lined them up in their sites. West saw it taking aim at Hawkes and shouted a warning, knowing he was too far away to do anything. As the shot was fired, Bel flung himself at Hawkes, knocking him to the ground and taking the full brunt of the blast in the chest. Van raced back, as Kitra and the others laid down a covering fire. Hawkes was pushed onwards, and Bel was thrown over Van's shoulder.

They piled into the ship as the engines wound up. Dana stood at the door, giving a helping hand to each one, and trying to prevent any further fatalities. Vansen's pack straps caught on the door and Dana had to drop her weapon to wrench them free, so the door could close. A last shot came straight through and caught her on the shoulder, spinning her to the floor. The door slammed shut as the ship flung itself skywards on as sharp an angle as it was capable of doing so. People and equipment lost their grip and rolled across the floor, being bumped and bruised as they went.

They reached the 'Saratoga' in short order, and it took them out of that sector quickly before pursuit could reach them. As the weary combatants came through the door, the Colonel greeted them. He noticed the dirt and grime, and the wounded Dana being helped.

"Well done. It's been verified that the complex is completely destroyed."

"Well done!" Kitra spat, pulling her headset off and flinging it to the floor. "I've got two dead and one wounded! And you say well done!" She was nearly shaking with rage, as she glared at him before turning to her wounded colleague and throwing an arm around her for support. "I am not taking your kids on the next run. Because I'm not going have a crew left if I do!" was her parting remark as she stormed away.

West and the others found Kitra and her crew in the ready room later on. They had all had the opportunity to clean up, but they still sported small injuries and were looking drained and tired. Kitra was drinking alone at a table and didn't look up as they approached.

"Um..." West hesitated, not knowing what to call her. They only knew her name, not her rank, and that seemed too familiar. Especially with what he wanted to say. He decided to just say what he had to. "We're sorry for what happened. It's different to what we were expecting."

"That's because you don't know anything about it." she replied, still without looking up, taking another sip of her drink. "Stick to the things you're good at, and leave the rest to those of us that know what we're doing. You kids should never have gone."

"Kids? You're about the same age as us." Vansen said.

Kitra looked up. "And I've done a hell of a lot more." she said and went back to drinking.

"Look, we're not some wet behind the ears kids!" West said sharply. "We're marines. We've been trained..."

"You've been trained for military procedures, and that's all!" Kitra said sharply, glaring up at them. "You don't know anything about the type of fighting we do! I don't try and tell you how to fly a hammerhead so don't try and tell me how to fight guerrilla warfare. My people died for you!"

"We didn't ask them to!" West shouted before he could think.

"Didn't ask us to?" one of Kitra's people stood up quickly, the chair falling over. He walked over to stand next to Kitra. "Is that all you can say! Flece and Bel are dead because they saved your necks instead of looking after themselves! And all you can say about it, is that you didn't ask them to!" His hands were clenched in fists at his side and the others of her group were now on their feet. The 58th knew there was a fight coming.

"Kez." Kitra said, putting an arm out, defusing the moment by that one word. Kez looked down at her and then turned away, moving back to his comrades, who also returned to their seats. The 58th were constantly amazed at how she was able to control a situation so completely.

"How many times do we have to say we're sorry?" West said in frustration.

She didn't look up. "Sorry won't bring his wife back."

"Wife?" Damphousse said falteringly.

Finally Kitra did look up at them, her face unreadable. "Most of us have close ties to each other, in some way. Now," she said, standing and facing them. "If you'll excuse us, we have our dead to mourn." She merely looked at them until they had no choice but to turn and leave. They could feel that their presence was most certainly not welcome.

"Oh, god!" Damphousse said, almost in tears. "That girl was his wife. He didn't do anything but pick her up and keep us going. Even after we got back he didn't seem to act any different, just went on with his job. Why did I fall! I should have been watching where I was going!"

"It's not your fault, Vanessa." Vansen said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It could have been any of us. Or we could have been the ones dead."

"But we're not." West said quietly.

Kitra and her group were in the docking bay. They were dressed as they normally were, albeit that their clothes were clean. Before them were two small urns, holding the remains of their comrades. She and her people believed in cremation, not submitting the entire body to space. As one of her people intoned a short prayer, the 58th entered quietly. They were dressed in their best dress uniforms, and stood to attention at the back. The air lock door closed and the urns were jettisoned into space, opening to spread the ashes through the stars. The 58th saluted smartly in response.

Kitra's eyes locked with McQueen's for a moment. He of all of them could well understand what she was feeling at that moment. The pain any good commander felt when they lost one of their people. She gave a brief nod of her head, acknowledging their recognition of her fallen dead. She then turned her back on them all to look out the porthole, and her people silently filed out, with the 58th following. Hawkes looked back for a moment to see her still there, staring into the blackness of space, alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 2

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast other OCs)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 2

"I'm not doing it, Colonel! I don't care who gives the order, I'm not taking your people on another run."

"You need the extra man-power."

"I wouldn't if your people hadn't put three of mine out of action!" Kitra spun to face him. "Two are dead, McQueen! Can you understand that? They aren't coming back. Dana's fit only for light duties. The best she can do is stay with the drop ship and provide some covering fire if we need it at the last moment. I can still deploy my people so we've got a chance of making it. If yours are there, we'll all end up dead." She turned away again. "I don't want any more deaths." she turned back to look him directly in the eye. "Not mine. Not yours."

And with that she walked away.

Kitra navigated the 'Saratoga's corridors. She wished this mission was over and they could move on. This large ship, packed with humanity, was getting on her nerves. She needed to be alone, to mourn privately. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard against it. Not yet, she couldn't let the grief over-take her yet. She allowed her mind to wander over the events of the past few days, moving without really seeing anything of her surroundings. She bumped into Hawkes in a corridor past the ready room, heading for the barracks.

"Hey!" he said, as Kitra brushed by him with barely a glance. He was beginning to dislike her cool attitude and obvious disdain for them all. He also happened to take slight from many things, probably because he was touchy about being a 'tank'.

"What?" she said, halting and looking at him. She hadn't been aware that it was him.

To Hawkes, it was just another slight upon the 58th. He thought she was being arrogant and conceited in her behaviour towards he and his colleagues. He intended to say his piece.

"Why don't you stop looking down your nose at us." he said. "Aren't you ever going to accept that we made a mistake? Okay, we screwed up and we've said we're sorry, but instead of rubbing our noses in it all the time, why don't you try helping us?" She just looked at him as she tried to gather her wits to deal with this unexpected verbal attack. "You don't care, do you? All you care about is your damn command! You don't care about us or that we're trying to help! You don't care that we may die!"

At that last comment, something inside Kitra snapped. All the anger and hurt she had been holding inside burst out in one violent movement and focussed entirely on Hawkes.

She moved so quickly Hawkes didn't see her coming. He was suddenly slammed up against the bulkhead, her hands gripping the front of his tunic. Although she stood a foot shorter than he, she showed no fear.

"What do you know about it, rookie!" she spat. "How dare you say I don't care? I **sacrificed** my people for you! Each of my people drew lots to see which of you they would watch. They were watching your backs the whole time! Literally! That is why two of them ended up dead, and none of you did. My people take their duties seriously. They were willing to die for you! Are you prepared to do the same!"

She released him with a final shove, standing back and breathing rapidly, shaking her head. "You wouldn't have raised a finger to help any of us. You were a risk from the moment we landed. You put my people at risk every step of the way! With your 'military procedures', going by the book! You were responsible for killing my people!"

"We did our jobs! It was your arrogance that killed them!" Hawkes shouted back.

Her fist connected firmly with his jaw and he staggered backwards, but he quickly responded in kind. After that, they traded a few blows, before Kitra gained the upper hand. She was used to fighting low and dirty, and she used those tricks and more. A knee to the groin, an elbow to the stomach, a short-fisted punch to the sternum and a leg hook, brought Hawkes crashing hard to the ground. She straddled his chest, her knees pinning his arms down. Her slender hands encircled his neck and began to squeeze.

He could hardly believe the strength in those delicate hands. Kitra kept squeezing, her anger spurring her on. He began to gasp in desperation, his face turning red, eyes screwed shut. Then, with an oath, she flung herself off him and leant against the bulkhead, her eyes screwed shut and forehead leaning against her left hand held in a fist.

"Damn you." she said softly, watching as Hawkes rolled over, gulping air into his starved lungs. "Damn you all." She squeezed her eyes shut again. "Why didn't you watch what was happening? Why did you let them bracket you?" Hawkes was surprised to hear her voice waver. "Bel shouldn't have had to do anything! You should have known! If anyone should be dead, you should be the one! But you're not, and he is!"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them. "It's your fault! Because of you my brother's dead!" She hung her head and tears streamed from her closed lids as her shoulder's shook.

Hawkes stared at her in shock. He remembered her saying that most of her group had ties to each other. He had never guessed, not once, that she had been including herself in that statement. She had lost her brother in that attack. Bel, who had thrown his life away to save Hawkes, had been her brother. And all this time, she had made no mention of it. She hadn't berated Hawkes for it, brought it up, blamed them. Until now. And now he could see the other side of Kitra; the young, heart-sick girl who mourned for the loss of her brother. Who could do nothing to save him, and could only watch him die.

On his hands and knees, he moved closer to her, reaching out to touch her shaking shoulders, and gently turned her so she could cry into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closely. He had no siblings. The only sister he knew he had, he had killed, albeit to save others. Kitra had a brother she had known but she too had killed him, by having to remember she was in command and responsible for many more lives than just his. Hawkes may not have been able to cry with her, but he could understand. And in a way he felt very, very close to her, and her tears seemed to ease the ache in his own heart.

He did nothing but hold her, until he felt her moving away from him. He released his hold as she lifted her head and wiped an arm across her eyes, erasing the tears. She looked at him silently for a moment, then levered herself to her feet, turning to go. She paused one more moment and looked down at his upturned face. There was no expression on her face.

"Thank you." she said quietly, and then moved briskly down the corridor, pushing past West and Vansen as they entered.

"I don't know who she thinks she is!" Vansen said in anger, watching Kitra's departing back. She and West came to where Hawkes was rising. "She's the most arrogant, rude, cold-hearted person I've met!"

"Hey, you okay?" West asked, looking at Hawkes.

He rubbed his tender neck and cleared his throat to attempt to talk. "I've been better."

"Did she do that!" Vansen said, noticing the marks on Hawkes's neck. "That's it! This time she gets what she deserves! I don't care who she is." She turned away in anger, prepared to chase after Kitra.

"Don't." Hawkes said, catching her arm to halt her.

"Why?" Vanese queried, wondering why the hot-headed Hawkes would let such a thing go.

"She could have killed me. She didn't."

"That's hardly a reason to leave it." West said. "We can't exactly have her wandering around nearly killing everyone."

"She won't be. It was my fault. I said some things."

"That hardly warrants getting strangled."

"Look, she told me some things."

"Like what?"

"That last mission. Her people drew lots to see who would look after each of us. We each had a guard watching our backs every step of the way. That's why we didn't get so much as a scratch on us. Her people were willing to die for us. As she said, would we do the same?"

"She's hardly made us want to!" Vansen said sharply.

"We hadn't done anything to make them want to watch out for us either." West put in. "Yet they still did it."

"And Bel, the one who saved me. He was her brother."

"Her brother?" Vansen said in shock amazement. Hawkes nodded. "Why didn't she say so?"

"She's got the others to worry about, and another mission. She can't afford to fall apart yet."

"My god, it was bad enough knowing one of them had been the wife of someone. But her own brother?" West shook his head. "Dammit, we've got to make her take us on this next mission."

"Why?" Hawkes asked. "We've already killed two of them. We'll only get the rest of them killed if we go. She's right. We're no good at that sort of fighting."

"Then we can learn." West said intently. "She's short handed, Coop. She'll be working with three less people to begin with. If we go we bring her up to full capacity with two extra. She's running the odds if she doesn't."

"Do you think she would train us?" Vansen asked.

"Only one way to find out."

Later in the rec room, they found Kitra and her people relaxing. West, Vansen and Hawkes had discussed it with the other two, and they were all agreed. They had also spoken with McQueen who told them they could try.

"Kitra?" West said, as designated spokesman.

"What?" she asked with almost a sigh.

"You need to take us with you on the next mission. You're shorthanded and you'll need the help."

Instead of becoming angry as they expected, she leant back and answered quietly. "You're more of a liability than a help."

"Then make us useful!" West said vehemently. She looked up at them. "You say we're no good." he continued. "Then train us! We can help you, if you let us!"

She looked at each of them silently, her eyes resting a little longer on Hawkes. Then she glanced across at her people, who had stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation. Silently she questioned each of them, receiving small signs of hesitant consent, coming at last to Kez. He didn't respond at first, and he knew that unless the decision was unanimous, she would not agree to it. Then with a sigh, he glanced down at the gun in his lap and clipped the magazine into place, before looking up with a brief nod. Kitra turned back to West and the others.

"Alright. We'll try it. But if you're no good, you still don't go."

"We just want a chance to try."

"Meet us in the hanger bay in fifteen minutes, in the gear you'd take on the mission. We'll start from there."

In fifteen minutes exactly, the 58th arrived in the hangar. They found Kitra and her crew already there, lounging on various items of machinery. The 58th were in their standard uniforms with helmets and packs, looking bulky and awkward. Kitra moved forward to stand before them.

"Alright. You want to be trained in what we do," she said. "that means the same rules apply. If I give an order, you do it, no argument. If one of my people give you an order, you do it. If it goes against military procedures, you don't argue. If it throws the rule book out the air lock, you don't argue. Agreed?" They all nodded.

"Okay. First thing, dump that gear. You go down in your singlets, trousers and boots, nothing more. We know the weather, we know what we'll be hitting. You don't need your packs. We go in as a group, we leave as a group. No-one is left behind, unless it's completely hopeless. You don't need survival gear. And if you're wondering what happens if we're all stranded down there, the same deal. Either we all get off, or we all die. If we did get stranded, we would be making a hit and run raid to grab a ship. There's no sitting tight for a rescue attempt. You don't need the helmets. You'll use these."

Van stepped up with headsets and attached glasses, handing them out. "The glasses will do almost as good a job as your helmets for night vision. We find we rarely use them anyway. Same with headsets, most of the orders will be silent, only some will be spoken. You'll be taught how to recognise the signals we'll be using. Otherwise you're to watch your 'buddy'. One of my people will be with each of you at all times. They're your shadow. You don't go anywhere without them. Kez will be with Damphousse, Van with West, Peta with Wang. Hawkes and Vansen with me."

Each of her people moved forward to stand opposite those they had been teamed up with. By this time, the 58th had removed all their unnecessary gear and stood in singlets. "Tuck your dog-tags inside your clothes. They'll get in the way otherwise. Okay. We'll do a bit of one on one hand-to-hand. Let's see what you've got."

With that her people moved in with lightening speed, she taking on two. In a split second, each of the 58th were lying flat on their backs, looking up at their opponents. As they sat up groggily, they could hear Kitra's voice. "You don't have very good reaction time to surprises." was her comment.

"This floor is pretty hard." Wang said, rubbing a bruised elbow.

Kitra merely raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Do you think the ground will be any softer?"

When they had all regained their feet, she said "Again." This time they gave a better accounting of themselves. Vansen and Hawkes being the last to go down.

"Why are we doing hand-to-hand?" West asked. "We're not going to be fighting the Chigs like this on this mission."

"Because this helps hone the reflexes. You have to be able to react to any situation in a split second."

They spent the next two hours going through the moves. Kitra and her group had combinations that the 58th had never seen before but they learnt them, starting slowly at first, and then picking up speed. Next, she had them move as though over enemy ground. They had to crawl along on their bellies, grazing elbows and knees, rolling to one side and being able to complete the manoeuvre with their rifles pointing in the correct direction. Then she and her people began to act as the enemy. The 58th had to develop their peripheral vision to pick up the slightest movement that would indicate that an enemy was about to fire on them, manoeuvre out of the way and 'destroy' the enemy.

This set the pattern for the next week. Every day spent hours crawling, fighting, dodging, as Kitra set up obstacle courses. More hours were spent in the rec room going over the signals and their meanings. They were tested on these back on their imaginary 'field of fire'.

The 58th developed a very healthy respect for the way Kitra and her people worked. Their tight knit group moved like one, with a clockwork precision that would have been the envy of any commander. And Kitra ruled them all with an iron glove, brooking no intolerance from either her own people or the 58th. She pushed them all, to the very brink of exhaustion every day. Each evening found them attending to each other's hurts; abrasions, bruises, sprained muscles, black eyes and blood noses. So far, no broken bones, but that could have been due to luck.

It was three days before their destination. They all met in the hangar. Dressed in just their singlets, covered in sweat, wearing headsets, the 58th blended in with Kitra's people for the first time. She leant against the nose of a fighter surveying those before her. She wasn't any older than they. Some of her people were, but not her. She had noticed the differences in them now. They were used to working in a team together, but they had not had to integrate themselves into another team that was already formed. They had adapted to the new skills well, and she was more than pleased with their progress. Their Colonel had been correct in saying that they were some of the best. Still she was a little hesitant. They may be performing well in this sterile environment. How would they really perform under fire?

To try and determine this, she had instructed her people to try and get to know the 58th better, under the guise of being linked to each of them during the mission. She also let the others deal with Hawkes and Vansen. She had to remain separate and impartial to all of them. If she had her full complement of fighters, she would not be partnering anyone. As the commander, she should remain free of all such considerations. Now she not only had to personally protect two of the 58th, but also everyone else in the squad. It would be a drain on her resources she knew, but there was no help for it, but she could not afford to become personally involved. Now she looked at the 58th.

"You've done well." she said. "Your Colonel was right. You are good. We're three days from the target. Now's the time we make the decision. You know how we work. It's a unanimous decision if you go. If not, one dissenting vote, you stay." She turned to her people. "Peta?"

The woman looked up and nodded. Wang breathed a sigh.

"Van?" he gave a half smile to West and a thumbs up. West too sighed.

"Kez?" Damphousse held her breath. Kez had worked her hard and been difficult to talk to. She could not blame him, but doubted he would agree to have her along. Surprisingly, he just gave a brief nod and she felt relief flood through her.

Hawkes and Vansen looked expectantly at Kitra. She shook her head. "I'm not making this call." She looked back to her crew. "Well?" All three nodded shortly and she turned back to the 58th. "You're in."

They looked at each other for one silent moment, and then whoops of joy rang out.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 3

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast of other OCs)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 3

They crowded round the ready room. Maps were spread over the table, microfilm ran through pinpointing areas that Kitra would mark. The ten fighters watched carefully and listened closely to Kitra's comments.

"So that's it." She finally said, looking up. "It's not going to be easy. The main job is getting to the main reactor. We'll be spread thinly as it is, so I'll take that. If I go down, Van's second." The 58th looked at each other briefly as Kitra casually spoke of her possible death. Her own people said nothing.

"Vansen and Hawkes, you're with me. With three of us, we should be able to set the charges and get out faster than originally anticipated." She looked at them all intently. "Remember, we get in, do the job and get out. Nothing more. Watch your backs, and your buddy's. Once you're done in your section, get back to the ship. Dana, keep a careful watch. They patrol regularly down there. If necessary, take the ship up and come back for us. Use your judgement. But don't let the ship be taken." Blonde Dana nodded, her arm still in a sling.

"The rest of you. We'll meet at this location. There's enough rock to provide cover and scramble any sensor readings. Don't make for the ship on your own. Unless things really blow up in our faces. Understood?" Everyone nodded. "Right. Take your copies of the area and study them. You have to know them inside out. We won't be taking them with us and there's no room for taking a wrong turn. That's all."

The group broke up then, each moving away with papers clutched in their hands. Kitra remained standing at the table, staring down at the diagrams before her. The rest of her crew departed with the 58th. A slight movement in the shadows told Kitra she wasn't alone. Looking up, she saw Hawkes approach her.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"What are you thinking?" he asked forthrightly.

"How many will come back." was her reply as she looked back down.

"But you've planned this. Nothing's going to go wrong."

"Of course, it can." she answered, glancing up. "And will. I can't see the future. I can only try and plan for every contingency that I can see. There will always be something else." she looked back down at the maps. "There's always the possibility some of you won't make it." Hawkes noted that she no longer separated the 58th from 'her people'. They had all become hers.

"Aren't you going to have a break?"

She straightened up. "When I'm satisfied."

"You've done all you can."

She shook her head. "I feel that I'm missing something. Something important." She rubbed her hand across her eyes wearily. She hadn't slept much in the last couple of days.

Hawkes noticed how tired she looked. "Look, you have to rest. You've not going to be any good to us if your reactions are slowed down from lack of sleep. You can barely stand."

She looked up at him. He was expecting her to tell him to mind his own business, when she surprised him by smiling. "You're right." she agreed, straightening again and stretching.

Hawkes couldn't help but notice that she had a very good figure. He may be a 'tank', but he could still appreciate a beautiful girl, which was exactly what Kitra was.

"Bel used to always badger me about resting. Guess I need someone to remind me of those things."

"Well then, come and have something to eat and drink, and get some rest."

"Alright." she said, rolling the paper work up. "Join me?"

"Sure."

Instead of going to the mess hall, she led them to her quarters. She opened the door and waved Hawkes inside. She had been allocated a room to herself as she was a commander of a team. The table was covered with maps, and various other bits of paper as well as computer disks. She brushed some aside to clear a space and punched an order through to the galley, before lifting the lid of a box and taking something out.

"Drink?" she asked, turning to him holding a bottle with an amber liquid inside. He nodded, and soon two cups were before him and she poured a generous measure into each. Sealing the bottle again, she lifted one cup in salute as he did the same.

"To the mission." she said quietly.

"To the mission." he affirmed, then downed a swallow. He began to choke and his eyes watered. Kitra let out a laugh, probably the first he had ever heard her make.

"Take it gently. It's pretty potent." She continued to smile at him, then chuckled again. "You should see your face." she said with humour. He wiped his streaming eyes and took a more careful sip. The alcoholic content was pretty high in whatever he was drinking.

"Don't they teach you how to drink in the military, Lieutenant?" she asked, topping their drinks up.

"Must have got skipped in the basic training." he answered. "And call me Coop. The others do" She nodded acceptance. "What rank are you?" he asked. "We've never found out."

"That's because I don't have one." was her surprising answer. "At least, not really."

"What?"

She shook her head. "I'm not military."

"Then how come..." his question trailed off.

"I'm given missions by the military, that I can get supplies and repairs from them, and I can be arrogant enough to tell them to shove their orders?" she said with an amused smile.

Coop shrugged. "Yeah."

"It's a long story."

"I've got nothing to do." he prodded. This was the first time that she truly seemed human.

"Okay." she agreed, taking a sip. "I guess I need to start with how I ended up fighting in the first place. Gods, that seems like such a long time ago." She took another drink.

"Bel and I grew up on a rural terra-forming planet. Rather primitive by most standards but we enjoyed that life, but it wasn't enough for us. We wanted to see other worlds and other cultures. So we took on freighter duty. When the Chigs turned up, Bel and I were off-planet, signed on the same freighter run. We couldn't get back home and the ship was forced down on another planet the Chigs were occupying. As soon as the freighter hit the ground they were all over it, like ants, shooting anything that moved. Bel and I were the only ones to get off alive, and only because we knew the only way to survive was to run and then lay low. Having grown up with little technology and amongst the natural vegetation, we knew how to make good use of the cover provided. Who would have thought all those years of playing hide-and-seek as kids would pay off now?

We got as far away from the crash as we could, and eventually found a group of survivors from the planet. They were all sorts; men, women, children. Some just wanted to survive, glad to just be alive and willing to live like rats in the hills, but a small group wanted to actually try and fight back. They thought that if they could make things bad enough for the Chigs, that they would up and leave. And if they didn't, they would still be able to raid and get better equipment for the survivors. So they formed their own make-shift guerrilla band.

Bel and I teamed up with them. We thought they would be our best bet of being able to get off that planet and try and get home. As we were the youngest, we were looked upon as just kids, expected to follow orders, without asking why." she smiled at him as she knew he would be thinking of all the times she had demanded that same attitude from them. "So we were brushed off at first. Until they realised that Bel and I were the only ones with some know-how in that kind of fighting. They were all city folk. They didn't know the first thing about living in the wild. Or fighting in it. So they started to listen. Sometimes." She took another drink, staring off into space.

"One day the leader wanted to lead them into a job that Bel and I knew couldn't work. We told them it wouldn't and why, but that time they wouldn't listen. For the first time, Bel and I refused to go. We didn't see any reason to die for someone else's stupidity.

We waited for two days, and then three people returned. Three out of more than forty. One died within a couple of hours, another was going to be touch and go. The third had lost an arm and was blind in one eye. He basically told us what we knew would happen. Most of the group was killed almost immediately, but then he told us of some who were captured. As far as he knew, they were still alive. We decided we couldn't leave them there. We felt guilty for not going. We knew it was going to be a suicide mission, and it was common-sense to not go, but it still felt like we had run out. So we went in after them." She poured another drink.

"We found about twenty survivors in the Chigs camp. Ten of them made it out with us. The Chigs were right on our tails the whole time. As most of the people weren't in very good shape, it came down to Bel and I to plan our escape. We gave orders and we made them obey. There was no room for arguments. Since the Chigs were following us, we decided they wouldn't think that we would head back towards their camp. So we split into two groups - Bel leading the majority away, keeping just ahead of the Chigs, I grabbed a few of the more able bodied people who knew about ships and we doubled back. Our luck held out. We got a ship up, rendezvoused with Bel and his group, and got the hell out of there.

We found the nearest planet that was abandoned to hole up. There wasn't one of us that wasn't injured, so it gave us time to heal. During that time Bel and I were still in charge, for want of a better word. The group just accepted that we were handling everything. We found out who knew what, who was suitable for which tasks, who picked up new tasks quicker and with better accuracy, and allocated them to that position. We taught them how we fight; guerrilla tactics, dirty tricks, anything. We taught them all the hunting tricks that we had been taught by our parents. We all got better, and we all learnt. When we left there, we were a team." She gave a half smile.

"It's funny, but not one of us thought about trying to go home at that point. The others only had an occupied planet to return to, where the Chigs were hunting them down. Bel and I just never considered it again. Those ten other people were now our family. We never consciously decided to fight the Chigs, or to form a team to do that. It just happened. We all had grudges against the Chigs, and we could fight better as a group than individually.

So that's how it started. On our next attack, we dumped the freighter we had and grabbed a faster ship. That's 'Predator'. It's taken a hell of a battering over time, but we couldn't have asked for a better ship. We just kept moving from place to place. We could pick up most military communications. Kez is real good with computers. That way we could keep track of what was happening, what the hot spots were, and where to go where we could cause the most damage. We didn't have anything to do with the military. We didn't talk to them, or ask for information, we just did our own thing.

Then on one job we happened to spring some soldiers who had got stranded. They had orders to download some data from an installation that we were going to blow. They were so ill-equipped for the job. Imagine putting desk jockeys in the middle of a war zone. They wouldn't know a tree if it came up and kicked them. They seemed to realise they were a little ill-prepared as well, as they asked us to help. We agreed, so sat down and worked it out with them. They were surprised that I happened to be in charge, but didn't argue about it. The end result was that we did the job, and got out intact.

We took them back to their base, where we were debriefed. Then they tried to order us around. We informed them we were all civilians and not subject to their orders. That took them aback. They assumed we were some form of army specialists. Then they wanted to know who had trained us, where we had come from, and so on. They homed in on Bel and I as being responsible for the training, so we were bombarded day and night. The questions they asked! They practically wanted to know what we ate each day! Finally, we had enough and said we were leaving. At first, they refused to let us go. When we threatened to set of a limpet mine if they didn't, they changed their minds. That's when they offered to make us admirals and generals if we stayed. We could join the regular army! We just laughed. What did we want with the military?

Finally, someone with a brain asked would we act as a specialist branch of the military. We still run ourselves, but if the military have an operation that they believe needs our 'expertise', could they count on our support. We talked among ourselves and agreed - to a point. It meant we could get repairs and supplies when we needed it, and we still had the final word on what goes down and how." She removed the food from the dumb waiter and sat down again, picking up some cheese.

"They still try and railroad us from time to time, hoping we'll give in, I guess, but most of the time they leave us alone. I won't deny it hasn't been handy having a bit of additional back up."

"How did they handle having to deal with you?"

"You mean, because I'm not only female but probably young enough to be their daughter and in some cases, grand-daughter?"

"Yeah."

She snorted. "They hated it! At first they were determined to believe that one of the others was the real commander, and I was just used as a front man. It wasn't until I crashed one of their strategy meetings and I rubbed their noses in the fact that I knew what I was talking about, that they began to accept me. After that I was given a nominal rank as Commander. To solve problems when I have to deal with any military personnel."

"But if you weren't trained, how did you learn all this? The tactics, strategy, planning."

She shrugged. "Most of it's common-sense. The rest is fore-planning. You try and put yourself in the enemy's position and determine what would he do. You ask yourself, 'If you do this, what will be his reaction?'. The plan that causes the least reaction is the one you use. You look for all the possibilities." she shrugged again. "Van says that I'm a natural. Some people can just see it all and can plan accordingly, others can't. I don't know if I am or not. All I know is that I can do it. That's why they follow me. They're confident that if I send them into something I've thoroughly thought it out, and I'm picking the best possible choice. They also know that I don't guarantee their survival. I can just give them their best shot."

"Do you think about dieing?"

She took another drink. "Not really. I guess I accept that I will, sooner or later. I've seen my people go down, one by one. Sooner or later, I'll be the one. We've gone from twelve to seven, we're now down to five. That's why I've taught my people everything I can think of." she laughed grimly. "They just about think like me now so they'll manage if I'm not there."

Coop shook his head. "I still just find it hard to believe. They follow you so unswervingly. They have no doubts about you."

"In our business, we can't afford to doubt each other. The slightest hesitation can kill you, or everyone around you. We've all had to trust our lives with each other at one point or another. That brings people pretty close together. You Wildcards are no different."

"But there's only five of you left."

She looked into her cup. "I know. We'll have to take on small jobs now. We don't have the man power to do what we used to."

"Train some more."

"It wouldn't work. It would take too long to integrate them, and we don't have the time."

"You trained us."

She looked up. "You all had some fighting background, and still look at the problems there. Remember, those that would have some of the skills needed, are already in the military and wouldn't be able to join us. Our only chance would be to find some other rebel group who fight the way we do, and try and integrate the teams. That can cause problems also." she shook her head. "I don't know. We'll have to see what the future brings. First, we've got to get through this mission."

"We will."

"Hope so."

"Keep going!" Kitra shouted, spurring Vansen and Hawkes on, limping along behind them. They ran as fast as they could to put distance between the ticking charges and the ever increasing explosions.

Kitra felt a hard blow to her side that knocked her off her feet. She rolled in the dirt, coming up against a support. Gasping, she tried to pull her self up, but her strength failed her. Breathing hard, and leaning against some twisted metal, she looked down at her side. Beneath the open jacket, a spreading darkness showed the cause. She gritted her teeth as she attempted to rise again, but it was useless. The wound in her leg had been hazardous enough in itself. This second was pumping blood out even faster, and she could feel herself weakening as the seconds ticked away. Well, this is it, she couldn't help thinking to herself, as she reached up to her headset and switched to a secure channel. Another explosion rocked the complex, and flames drew closer.

"Van?" she shouted above the increasing noise. "Van!"

"Kit!" came the reply.

"Your call." she said.

"What..?"

"Your call!" and she then deliberately switched off completely. A slight sound to her right was all the warning she had to raise her gun and shoot the Chig that had appeared through the flames. She waited to see if others would follow, but none appeared. Dragging herself painfully, she positioned herself between two silos, allowing her to see around her yet still providing some protection. Although she thought it was more likely that she would die of blood loss or be burnt to death by the fire, than being shot by the Chigs.

Hawkes and Vansen arrived at the rendezvous, blackened with ash and breathless. Van took note of them.

"Let's move out." he said quickly.

Hawkes looked around and then behind him. "Wait a minute. Kit."

Van looked at him. "She's out."

"What?" Hawkes said grabbing Van's arm. "She was right behind us!"

"She called me." Van said, jerking his arm away. "She said she's out." He began to move away.

"You can't leave her!" Hawkes shouted to him.

Van spun round to face him. "I owe it to her to get you all away safe! Now, move it!"

Habit made them all obey, and they raced for the ship. Dana had it fired up and ready to leave, crouched at the door, gun in hand, watching the surrounding night for signs of danger. They began to pile in upon reaching it.

"Where's Kit?" she asked, her quick glance confirming that their leader was not among them. Van gave a quick shake of his head.

"You can't leave her!" Hawkes said, grabbing hold of Van again. "Look, I know she called you, which means she was alive. She could still be alive! We've got to try!"

"If there was any chance, she wouldn't have called! There's no way!" Van began.

"What about the headsets?" Hawkes said, spinning to look at Damphousse. "Can we pick up the channel they work on? Use it like a homing beacon?"

"It's possible." Vanessa agreed. "But not very trustworthy."

"Look, I'll go back. I'll find her. You track us with the headsets. If you don't hear from me in seven minutes, then you go."

"That would mean leaving you here." Van said.

"If you don't hear from me it will mean I'm dead anyway."

Van looked around at them all, seeing the consensus on every face. None of them wanted to leave Kitra behind, least of all him. "What the hell! I don't want to command. Okay, you've got seven minutes to the second. We'll be waiting. Go!"

With a leap, Hawkes was gone running into the night. "Take us up, Dana. Vanessa, get the gear rigged up. Let's move!"

Hawkes raced towards the flames rising into the sky. He had surprised two Chig patrols already and could see more moving in the distance. He knew the time was ticking away and he still hadn't found Kitra. He refused to think that he wouldn't find her. She was there, still alive somewhere. With her last breath, she would be fighting to keep the rest of them alive. She wouldn't die until she knew they were safe.

He detoured around the inferno before him, retracing his steps, knowing she would be there somewhere. Then, as the flames parted for a moment, he saw her, wedged between two silos, the flames almost touching her, as she lined up another Chig in her sights and fired. He ducked and rolled, coming up to shoot down the remaining two Chigs, before turning to her. She looked up at him with a pale face smudged with ash.

"Hawkes! What the hell are you doing here! Get out!" she pushed feebly at his hand.

"Not without you."

"I told Van to get you all out!"

"We had another plan."

"You fools! Van should have taken the call!"

"Come on."

She grimaced. "Can't walk. Do you think I've been sitting here for my health!"

Hawkes reached up and keyed the headset. "Predator, I've got her. Do you hear me? I've got her." Straining he could faintly hear the reply.

"We've got a fix on you. Get ready."

He reached down and hauled her to her feet, noticing the wound in her leg. As he threw her arm around his shoulder, he suddenly felt himself pushed down and she fired over his head, taking the Chig full in the chest. She wavered and seemed about to fal, as he grabbed her again, and began dragging her away, both of them with guns at the ready and watching for danger. A spot of light in the sky showed the Predator dropping towards them.

Firing their guns, Hawkes and Kitra charged the Chig patrol to reach the ship. They would have been cut down but the doors of Predator swished open and the others opened fire. Hawkes nearly threw Kitra inside whilst hands reached out to haul him inside.

"Go, go!" Van shouted, helping Kitra to her feet. They sped towards open space. All around them, Chig ships appeared, sending out blazing streaks of destruction.

"Two destroyers coming in. Co-ordinates 334.6 and 448.9!" Kez shouted, hanging on tightly as Predator rocked with the concussion blast.

"Shields are buckling!" Van called out.

"We can't get past those destroyers!" Dana shouted.

Another blast rocked them and Kitra stumbled forward, grabbing hold of the back of Kez's seat. "Go to point. Take us through that gap, and then swing to port, 62 degrees."

"That will take us right between them!" Dana said in disbelief.

"Exactly. So neither can fire on us."

"Unless they get us during the manoeuvre!"

"Then make sure they don't!" Kitra snapped, staring at Dana.

Dana pursed her lips then turned back to her controls. "Right!"

With no further discussion, Dana and Kez set the course and Predator dodged the blasts, attempting to slip between the two ships.

"That one's going to fire. Our shields can't take it!"

"Hold course, Dana!" Kitra leant down next to Kez's ear. "When I give the word, full power only to the front port shield. Everything - including life support."

Kez looked up at her for a moment, as she stared intently at the ships in front of them, before turning back to the instruments. "Right." His fingers flew across the board before him, programming in their requirements.

Kitra watched. She knew which ship would open fire first, it was her sixth sense that told her, her sixth sense that had kept them alive on more than one occasion. She could feel the blood continuing to seep from her side, her singlet soaked by it, as well as her trouser leg. It was amazing that the body could hold so much. She felt a little light-headed. Is this what dying felt like, she wondered. She continued to watch the enemy ships. Around her, she could hear her people and the 58th monitoring the instruments, contacting the Saratoga, but there was only the ships before her that she was interested in. She could feel Kez sitting there, poised over his console, waiting for her word.

There was no physical sign to warn her. She just knew. "Now!" she whispered harshly.

Kez switched on the pre-set programme. The lights dimmed inside and the air suddenly went still as life support switched off. The impact was tremendous, and it rocked the ship. Tearing sounds reached them, and for one moment they all thought they would die, expecting the ship to rip itself apart and spill them into space. Then the emergency lights came on and the air stirred faintly, as they shot between the two ships and out into clear space.

They reached the Saratoga; dirty, tired, but relieved. Colonel McQueen was there waiting for them, anxious to see who returned. They all piled out, looking wrung out. Kitra took a deep breath as she faced the task of exiting the ship. Her vision was fading in and out, and her body felt leaden.

McQueen surveyed them all. "Get cleaned up and rested. You've done well."

They all began to move away, when they heard a thud. Turning, they saw Kitra sprawled on the deck, a growing patch of red spreading around her. Hawkes was the first to reach her, rolling her over and raising her up. Doing so made the jacket fall open, revealing the gaping, bloody wound in her side. Hawkes reached out with a shaking hand.

"Gods! No wonder she couldn't make it!" Futilely, he pressed his hand over the wound, seeking to stop the flow, but feeling it seeping between his fingers, knowing that her life was slipping away before him.

"Medic!" West shouted into an intercom.

The 58th sat quietly in the rec room. Kitra's people were there also. The room had the atmosphere of a funeral. The door opened quietly.

"The morgue's more lively than this place," the voice said from the doorway. They all looked up, startled to see Kitra framed there.

"Kit!" Van shouted and raced towards her, lifting her in a bear hug, the rest of her people not far behind.

"For gods sakes, Van! You'll bust the stitches!" she cried out.

"I'm sorry!" he said, concern showing on his face.

She smiled at him weakly. "It's alright. I'm alright. A little weak, and I look like I've been attacked by a sewing machine, but I'm fine."

"You had us worried." West put in with a smile.

She shook his proffered hand. "I had myself worried." She then turned to face Van with a stern expression. "And just what sort of fool stunt were you trying to pull back there!" she began. Van took a step back. "You're my second. If I go down, you're supposed to do the right thing by the rest and get them out. You know better than to risk their lives for sentimentality. I thought I had trained you better than that!"

"Hey! It wasn't Van's idea, it was mine." Hawkes put in.

She rounded on him. "Wrong! It was Van's call! It was his responsibility!" she turned back to Van. "Well?"

He shrugged, "We were all in agreement, Kit. We weren't going to leave you there when there was the chance you were still alive. Hawkes came up with a sound plan, so we tried it. It worked."

"That is not the point, and you know it! You should have got them all to safety!"

"Kit, it's no good berating Van. We were all in it." Kez put in. "You've got us out alive enough times that we all owed you one. It was our chance to pay you back."

"Besides," Van put in with a lop-sided smile. "I didn't fancy being in command. You're better at it."

She looked at them all and shook her head slowly. "You are all mad." then glanced over at the 58th. "And you were all in on it too?" They nodded and she shook her head again. "You're as bad as them!" Jerking her head at her own people. "Well, you've managed to get stuck with me for a bit longer. But I swear - the next time you try that stunt, I'll kill you myself!"

Van just smiled at her. "Have a drink?"


	4. Chapter 4

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 4

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast other OCs)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 4

"You'll have to save the celebration, we're moving out." Kitra said from the doorway.

Her people turned to face her. She wished she didn't have to tell them this news. They all deserved a break, a time to reflect upon what had happened, and adjust to the changes that would be caused by their missing friends.

"When?" Kez asked.

"0100. Which means we've got to start now if we're going to be ready."

"What's the job?"

"A tough one, but we're the only ones who have got a chance of doing it. It's quite a way to go, so that's why we've got to move now."

"Oh, well, I've never had a good head for drink. It's better if I don't have any."

"Meet you in the hangar. Stow your gear, then start the checks."

Without any further conversation, her people filed out. She moved back to her own room where she was surprised to find a visitor. Hawkes stood looking out the window.

"Nice view." she said upon entering.

He turned at her voice. "Hope you don't mind. I sort of let myself in. I didn't like hanging around in the corridor."

She shook her head, "'Course not. Want a drink?"

"Sure."

She poured a drink for them both. She knew that she should be meeting her people, they had a great deal of work to do, but she could not leave yet. She didn't want it well known that they were going and she knew her people wouldn't say anything. She passed a drink to Hawkes and they stood side by side watching the stars.

"What do you think about when you look out there?" Hawkes asked, startling her out of her reverie.

"Home. Bel. Friends." she said, softly, finishing her drink and setting the glass down. "And you?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He shrugged. "I don't have a home. I don't have any family."

"What about friends?"

"The only friends I have are right here."

"But don't you think of something else when you see the stars? Seeing space stretch on and on before you? Doesn't that make you think or feel anything?"

"It makes me feel cold." She frowned a little at his answer. "It's like it's trying to suck all the warmth out of my body."

She rested her hand on the glass - all that separated them from that black expanse.

"No, it's not an enemy. It is beautiful. It's proof that no matter what happens, there will always be beauty in this universe, that there will always be something enduring, like love."

"I don't know anything about love."

To Kitra's ear, Hawkes voice sounded bitter, and she turned to face him. She studied him. He was a good looking man, young, fit, intelligent, and the light in his eyes belied his inability to experience emotions.

"Why did you come back for me?" she asked softly, watching his face.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You must. None of us do things without having a reason."

"Why did you stay behind?" he countered.

"I was hurt. Badly. I couldn't make it on my own."

"You could have asked for help."

"I would have endangered someone else's life and wouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"You all mean too much to me to risk losing you."

Hawkes looked about to say something, but stopped, and instead turned to put his glass down.

"So why did you come back for me?" she asked again.

"I didn't want to think of you dying there."

"Everyone's got to die somewhere. There, or somewhere else, what does it matter?"

He turned to face her. "I didn't want you to die anywhere."

Kitra looked into his eyes. Hawkes eyes still held an innocence that showed his age, yet also a hardness from horror and pain. Reaching up slowly she touched her fingertips to his cheek. Barely touching his skin, she drew his face down to hers until their lips touched, hesitantly at first as he searched out this new sensation, and then more firmly as a feeling grew within him. Her hand slowly slid across his cheek and began to curve around his neck.

Suddenly his hand shot up and captured her wrist, pulling her hand away as he jerked his head up.

"What?" she queried softly, searching his face when he didn't answer. "Because you're an invitro?"

He looked startled. "You know?"

She nodded. "It doesn't matter whether you are a human or a tank. You are still a man. And it is the man that I want."

She raised herself on her toes to touch his lips again. Soon he released her wrist and made no further move as her hand caressed the back of his neck. She slid her hands down his neck and chest, down his ribs and tugged his shirt up. They broke the kiss as she lifted it over his head and it dropped to the floor.

Hawkes may not have been taught a great deal about human relationships, of how humans, male and female, interact at times like this, but somewhere in the genes, biology took over. His instincts lead him now. As her hands slid back up his chest, his dropped to the front of her vest. Finding the zipper, he pulled it down, pushing it from her shoulders. Her skin was soft and warm under his hands as they moved down her back. He fumbled a moment with the clasp of her bra, completely unfamiliar with this but then it was free. When it too had dropped to the ground, he wrapped his arms around her firmly, lifting her from her feet, feeling her arms clasped tightly about his neck. Turning he took the few steps to her bunk, laying her down, and lowering himself on her. His dog tags fell cold upon her neck and she pushed him away gently.

"The war will come between us soon enough." she whispered, lifting them from around his neck and dropping her hand over the side. "But not now." and as he kissed her, the dog tags slithered to the floor.

Kitra stared at the ceiling as she had been for a long time. Hawkes's soft, warm breath caressed her ear. Turning her head, she looked upon his sleeping face. It was calm, at peace. Kitra knew that she had behaved irresponsibly. They were at war, and war had no place for sentiment, and she was leaving. She glanced at the stars through the window. It was time to go.

Rising slowly, she dressed and left without disturbing Hawkes, her possessions in a small bundle. All her group were in the hanger, working hard. She stowed her gear and began the checks. None of them made any comment on her late arrival. Even though she had shown little outward evidence, they all knew her too well to not recognise the attraction that had been drawing her and Hawkes together. After a few more hours, they all reported ready, just as the chronometer was moving towards 0100.

"We made good time. Well done." she complimented them. "Let's get out of here."

"Too late." Peta called back from the door, jerking her head. They peered through to see McQueen and

the 58th arriving at a run.

"Were you just going to sneak out of here?" McQueen asked.

"We've got a deadline and we've been working to meet it. We've got to go."

"Without saying good-bye?" Vanessa asked.

"We don't like good-byes. There's never a lot a point to them."

Kitra saw the change in the faces before her at her curt answers, although she was studiously avoiding looking at one face in particular. "Look, we've still got a couple of things to do. You can talk to us if you wish, but we've got to keep going. We've enjoyed working with you, you're good, but we've got to go."

She turned on her heel and disappeared to the other side of the ship as the rest of her people went back to their final tasks. Hawkes found her there immediately. "Why didn't you say something? Who do you think you are? I wake up and you're gone, then I hear that you're pulling out. What do you think you're doing?"

Kitra turned to him once he had finished, and the unshed tears in her eyes stopped his torrent of words. "Hawkes...Cooper, what could I say? We've got a job to do. It came through only six hours ago and we needed all that time to get prepared. We're in a war. You knew I would have to leave."

"You could have told me!"

She shook her head. "I didn't have the words. I didn't plan it this way. Please believe me. I didn't plan any of this. It just happened." she reached out and touched his cheek softly. "Keep well, Cooper Hawkes." and she moved past him.

Spinning, he pulled her back into his embrace, crushing her to him. He breathed in the sweet smell of her skin, pressing his face into the silkiness of her hair. "Don't leave me." he rasped out desperately.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of his raw emotion. "I must." she whispered, almost in pain. "Forgive me." and she released him and slipped away.

The rest of her group were doing a final round of hand shakes and piling into Predator. "Good luck, 58th. Safe flying." and she stepped inside. Turning for one final look back, she saw that Hawkes had joined the others. She caught McQueen's eye, knowing that he would guess what had occurred between them.

"Attention!" he snapped, and he and the 58th came to attention and saluted. Kitra looked for one more moment, and then for the first time in her life, she returned the salute, before the door swished shut.

She moved to take her seat at the front, glancing out the window where she could see the 58th still standing. "Sorry to be going?" Van asked at her side.

She turned to look at him. "No."

"Liar."

"Yes." was her reply as she turned away, settling into her seat. "Okay, let's get out of here."

"Coop!" West shouted, urging his friend to vacate the launch deck before the vacuum doors shut. "Come on, get out of there!" Running back, he grabbed Hawkes arm and pulled him through at the last moment. Immediately, Hawkes was against the window, watching Predator drop from sight.

Even when the others had gone, he remained still standing there.

Six months later, Hawkes was called to McQueen's quarters.

"Take a seat, Hawkes." he said. Cooper seated himself hesitantly, uncertain of the reason for his being there. "There's something I want you to hear, and I didn't think you would want everyone else to." He began flicking some switches. "This message buoy was picked up a couple of weeks ago. It had been drifting for a number of months as near as we can gather."

The static cleared and then a voice came through clearly, a voice Hawkes knew well for he heard it in his dreams nearly every night - Kitra.

"Well, McQueen, I hope you've got this, it's not going to make any sense to anyone else. We did that job we left to do except it turned out even worse than we expected. Damn military intelligence - that's a contradiction in terms! We got off the planet alright, and landed straight in the middle of things. Predator's useless, there's nothing left working. We're all still here, though barely. At the moment we're watching two destroyers coming in for the kill, although it's going to be a race as to whether they get us, or our life support goes first, or we burn up in the atmosphere. We're already in a decaying orbit. We estimate we might have five minutes. What a way to go, eh? Enough chit-chat, don't have the time for it. I have a favour to ask. I'd like you to pass a message on for me. You don't have to - and if you decide not to, I understand. It's for Cooper. Tell him...Tell him I love him. Not that it does either of us any good, but I had to say it. At least I have said it. We've got about three minutes so I need to get this buoy off now, or it'll go the same way we do. All the information the military would want is in here. You know what to do with that. Look after yourself, and take care of the 58th. War's hell, isn't it?"

Hawkes sat still as the message ended in silence. "How long ago?"

"Probably nearly six months."

"Almost straight away." McQueen nodded.

Hawkes looked up at this man who in many ways he thought of as a father. "Did she mean it, sir? Could she mean it? She's a human. How could she 'love' me?"

McQueen looked down into Hawkes bewildered, confused face. He had agonised long and hard about whether or not to let Hawkes hear this message, but from what little he knew of Kitra in their short time together, he had come to respect her and knew her to be an honest person. He decided that right or wrong, he had to honour her last wish.

"Hawkes, they had five minutes, or so they estimated, before they died. There were five people on that ship and there was plenty of other information they could have put in the buoy. In those five minutes, she could have been spending that time fighting to keep her people alive. Instead she spent those last five minutes thinking of you, trying to get a message to you. If you had five minutes to live, what would you be doing?"

Hawkes remained silent as McQueen walked behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "She loved you enough to sacrifice her last remaining moments to try and speak to you across space. How can you doubt her?"

Hawkes then stood and moved to the door before turning. "Thank you, sir. For telling me. I know you didn't have to." and he left.

When he reached the sleeping quarters, the others were lying on their various bunks. West looked up as Hawkes entered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, catching sight of Hawkes face.

Hawkes sat on the edge of his bunk. "A message buoy was found. From Kitra." the others sat up at this news. "They're dead."

"What?" Damphousse said.

"They sent the buoy off five minutes before they were entering a decaying orbit. If they weren't blown out of the sky by the two Chig destroyers that were bearing down on them."

"When?" Shane asked quietly.

"Nearly six months ago."

They were all silent and Hawkes swung himself up to lie on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Silently the others followed suit, each wrapped up in their own thoughts and memories of a young fiery guerrilla fighter and her small group, who fought the war their way.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 5

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast of other OCs)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 5

"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is a recorded message from civilian freighter, Mantis. Systems down, no shields, life support on minimal. Personnel in need of urgent medical attention. Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is a recorded message..."

"It just keeps repeating." The Commodore of the Saratoga flicked the switch off. "So what do you make of it?"

Colonel McQueen frowned. "It could be a trap."

Commodore Ross nodded. "I thought of that. But then it could be real."

"Are there any other ships in the area."

The Commodore shook his head. "We're the only ones. It could be a waste of time, we have no idea how long that message has been broadcasting. If the crew was in need of urgent medical help, they could all be dead by now."

"Yet if they're alive, they could have valuable information on any Chig activities in this area." McQueen added.

"Exactly." the Commodore agreed.

"Do you have any data on the ship, Mantis?"

"Nothing's in the data banks, but if it was just a private ship then we wouldn't know about it."

"We don't have much choice. We are obligated to answer any distress call."

"Then let's go see what we find."

Soon they had the drifting ship on their screen. "Anything?" Commodore Ross asked.

"I'm detecting extreme damage to the ship. The stress fractures are very unstable. How it's held together up to now I don't know."

"Can you estimate how long ago the damage was done?"

"I would say about two days, maybe less. There's no propulsion evident and from what I can gather from the specs it looks like the drive was shot away."

"Could there be crew alive in there?"

"Hard to say. It appears there is some power still functioning, very weak though."

"Clear the lower hanger, get some marines down there and take all emergency procedures. If that ship is a booby trap we want it to do the least damage possible."

"Yes, sir."

McQueen put the orders in motion. Soon the drifting hulk was manoeuvred inside the docking bay. Everyone stood in silence, but there was no movement or reaction from the ship. Cautiously the armed personnel moved towards the door. Shorting the lock, it squealed partially open, and the soldiers leapt back as a human arm slipped into sight. When there was no other sign of movement, the squad commander called. "Let's go!"

Other soldiers moved forward, and from the shear weight of numbers, the door was ground back. They pulled the person from the doorway onto the floor. It was a blond girl, covered in blood and grime, her other arm a bloody mangled mess. Another soldier was on the intercom shouting for the medics, who arrived in short order. The squad commander entered the ship with two of his men, still ready for trouble.

What greeted them was a sight from hell. They found three more humans, all looking like the victims of a mine blast, two males and one other female.

"My god." the commander said with feeling, viewing the darkened interior and their postures of almost death. He slung his gun over his shoulder. "Get them out of here! More men!" he shouted and some arrived immediately.

They carried the wounded outside where the medics quickly took charge of them. One of the men had a leg dangling by mere flesh, the other had an eye missing. The other female had ugly, bloody wounds that had ripped one side of her face apart and a smashed left hand. These were the main visible wounds, they all had numerous minor ones, literally covered from head to toe in blood. They were placed on stretchers with respirators and rushed to the infirmary.

McQueen made his way to the infirmary. "Well, doctor?" he asked.

The doctor looked up from his consoles, and shook his head in amazement. "I don't know why they are still alive, Colonel, and I don't know where they've been to end up like this."

"What's their status?"

"They are all stable at present, although far from well. The damage has been extensive and we've had no choice but to provide prosthetics. Jane Doe number one, entire right arm as a prosthetic, scarred face on left side, that's been stitched, three cracked ribs, broken femur and tibia. Jane Doe number two, all ribs shattered so we replaced them with metallics, she's lucky they didn't puncture the lungs. They seem to be holding. Left hand replaced with a prosthetic, right side of face scarred too badly for repair work. If she wants plastic surgery, she can make that decision later but I think the damage is too extensive even for that. She's lucky she didn't lose the eye. John Doe number one, entire left leg replaced with a prosthetic, numerous deep wounds across the chest, punctured lung but that's coming along well. John Doe number two, left side of face, mainly upper region, destroyed, loss of eye but we're replaced that with an amplifier and connected some neural tissue to it which should provide limited vision. Scull has also been replaced with a metal plate. Again any number of cuts, gun shot wounds, minor broken bones and fractures. That pretty well sums it up. Wherever they've been, they've been in the wars."

"We are at war, doctor." McQueen reminded him dryly. "Can I see any of them?"

"They won't be coming round for a few days yet. If they come round."

"What do you mean?"

"Colonel, the human body can only cope with so much. There's no guarantee that their bodies will accept the prosthetics, some of the wounds are old and not been attended to, and there are signs of other wounds that have had no medical assistance. They are badly malnourished, and their bodies are at a very low resistance. As I said, it's surprising that they are still alive at all."

"I'd like to look at them anyway."

"Alright, Jane Doe number two appears to be giving reasonably strong vital signs. She do?"

"Any."

The doctor led McQueen down the sterilised corridor and into the room. McQueen felt a shock as though he had been doused with cold water. There on the bed lay Kitra - a battered, scarred, pale figure, but definitely Kitra.

"The others!" he snapped to the doctor.

Confused, the doctor lead McQueen to the other three. Sure enough, beneath the bandages and tubes, they were Kitra's people. McQueen could put a name to each of the faces, what remained of some of them; Van, Kez and Dana. Beyond all belief, believing they had been dead for the past six months, they were back. The gods were surely watching them to have the Saratoga in the right place to save them once more.

"How do you feel?" McQueen asked.

Kitra sat on the edge of the bed and wearily raised her head. Dark circles showed clearly under her eyes, the scars standing out starkly in her gaunt face. "I've been better." was her short reply. Taking a deep breath she carefully stood, wavering slightly. "How're the others?"

"They're all coming along well. Considering."

Kitra made no response, lifting the clothes supplied to her from the edge of the bed. Without considering, she began to dress. McQueen turned his back. "Can I see them?"

"Of course, but I need to speak to you first."

"Not now. Not yet." was her soft reply.

He turned back to face her. He had seen the look in her eye in other soldiers, those that had seen sights that would haunt them always. He nodded. "This way." and lead her slowly down the corridor.

As they walked, her steps grew firmer and more confident as though her body was adapting to the alterations made to it. By the time they reached the ward, she seemed more like herself.

Inside were thee beds, all empty. Their occupants were in various stages of dressing and looked up at the visitors. There were no joyous greetings, just eyes looking into eyes, reliving silently whatever events had brought them to this point.

"How you feeling?" she asked in general, watching the remaining three.

Van shrugged, wincing a little and placing a hand over his ribs. "A little tender, but apart from that not bad."

"Weak as a kitten, if you want to know the truth." Dana put in, zipping up the flight suit and pulling the sleeve tight about her metallic arm.

"Like wise." Kitra replied. "Feel up to having some real food?"

"Anything would be better than the mush they've been pumping into our veins so far." Kez said, rubbing a hand over the metal plate embedded in his scull.

"Well, you know where the mess is. Meet you there shortly."

"Right." and they filed out.

Kitra sat on the bed. "I gather you have cleared the mess hall so there will be no one to speak with them?"

McQueen nodded. "Until you've been debriefed that is advisable."

"Fair enough. So what do you want to know?"

"What happened? Where have you been? We received your last message buoy so assumed you were dead."

"Ah, that last message. Did you pass that on?"

"Yes."

"Foolish of me. I should never have sent it. Can't change it now. As for being dead..." she looked up at him. "I wish we had been." she glanced down again. "All the information you want has been sent to you. I'll provide a written report on anything else later." she stood up. "Right now, I have no intentions of discussing anything. I have nothing that can be of assistance to you in the immediate future. What I and my people need is rest. Will you give us that?"

"You will report later?" she nodded. "I'll show you your quarters." and he lead her away.

Later there was a knock at his door. Upon opening it he found Kitra.

"May I come in?"

"Certainly."

She placed two disks on the desk. "That's my report. Everything that happened to us, everything we saw and did, everything that we learnt or could maybe deduce from what we saw."

"You haven't been resting."

She smiled wryly, turning to look at him. "I know how military procedures work. This will at least keep you off our backs for a while."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Me? I'm quitting." was her surprising answer.

"Quitting?"

She walked over to the window. "Yes. I can't do it any more. I've lost too many people and I can't watch them die any longer. I haven't got it in me. If the military want someone to do these sorts of jobs, they can find someone else. I sent the resignation through just now."

"What about your people?"

"I'm going to tell them now. Then they have the choice of doing what they want. If we can impose upon you to let us stay until we get somewhere you can drop us off?"

"Of course."

"Thanks. Good night, Colonel." and she left.

8

Kitra found her people sitting in the quarters provided to them. They weren't bunked with the 58th this time, Kitra had been trying very hard to forget that the 58th was even on board.

"You look better." Van said, looking at her.

She smiled. "Anything would be an improvement."

Kez let out a bark of laughter. "That's the truth."

"Wanted to let you know, it's Van's call now. I've resigned."

They stared at her in disbelief. "What?"

She held up a hand to forestall any arguments. "Van, I can't keep going. I'm burnt out. I've got nothing more to give to this fight."

"What about us?"

"You're free to do what you want. I've already told the top brass I'm out, you can make your own decision. If they've got a problem with it, they can sort it out for themselves. I'm going to get some sleep now."

McQueen sat up at the knocking on his door. "Come in." he called out.

The door opened to admit Van. "Sorry to disturb you, Colonel, but can I have a word?"

"What about, soldier?" McQueen said, indicating Van should take a seat. His prosthetic leg stuck out awkwardly.

"Kit's quit."

"I know."

"Thought you might. Look, I don't know you very well. Didn't have a lot to do with you before, but Kit's always spoken highly of you. She's respected you, and she doesn't praise people lightly. So no matter what happened, we all knew you would be someone we could trust if we needed to."

McQueen was surprised to hear this from Van. He had had no idea that Kitra and her people considered him in this light.

"I know Kit's feeling bad about what's happened, but it's not her fault. We can't go on without her. She's the life blood of us. Without her, we all would have ended up dead years ago, but we can't make her see that. We need her. None of us can quit - we've got nothing to go to, and we only have each other. Kit's one of us, she belongs with us."

"What do you want from me?"

"Talk to her. She'll listen to you, because you're also a commander. I have only briefly held that responsibility of trying to keep others alive, and it scared the hell out of me. I couldn't do it - and I don't understand how Kit could do it and for so long, but you do. You can talk to her about the fears and horrors that only you would know she is experiencing. We can't help her. You can."

"I can't promise that it will change anything."

"I know, but will you try?"

"Alright. I'll give it a go."

"Thank you, Colonel. Sorry to disturb your rest." Awkwardly Van got to his feet and left the room, leaving McQueen to ponder his words.

The 58th were in the rec room. Two months had gone by since the battered ship had been taken on board and the wounded survivors rushed to the infirmary. McQueen had remained closed mouthed about them since then, and the entire Saratoga was buzzing with speculation.

"Don't you lot know how to party?" a voice said from the doorway.

Looking up from their various activities, the 58th saw the familiar features of Van, and as he stepped forward Dana and Kez showed behind him.

"Christ! Where did you lot spring from?" Wang shouted coming to his feet followed by the others. "Wait! That ship - that was yours!"

"What's left of it." Kez said wryly.

It was then the 58th pulled up sharply, taking note of the altered appearance of the three before them. Dana was in t-shirt and trousers, her prosthetic arm showing clearly. Van had found the trousers constrictive around his metal leg and had cut it open at the knee so the metal showed through. Kez's red gleaming artificial eye stared back at them.

"Jesus..." Wang said softly.

The three moved further in, taking seats. "There's no need to be concerned. We're all on the mend. We've been put back together like the proverbial Humpty-Dumpty."

The 58th silently sat also. Dana looked at their shocked faces. It hurt to see their pity, and revulsion. And this was coming from people she would call "friends". It was even worse than from the many strangers they encountered on the ship.

"Look, we're all quite well aware of what we look like." she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Plug us in and we could wash your clothes and do the dishes at the same time." West let out a small laugh, and Vansen smiled. It was at least a start.

"You the only ones who made it?" Hawkes asked intently.

Van looked over at him, knowing full well who he was enquiring after. "We lost Peta. Kitra made it."

"Where is she?"

Van shrugged. "Around. She's quit." The 58th looked puzzled so Van explained more fully. "She's decided that she's can't do it any more. She's not going to lead us anymore."

"Then what will she do?" West asked.

Van shrugged again. "I don't know."

"What happened to you?" Damphousse asked. "The last we heard was you were basically dead. Something about a decaying orbit."

"Gods, that was a long time ago." Van replied, drawing a hand across his eyes as though to blot out the memories. "Most of it doesn't make pretty telling. We were caught by the Chigs."

The 58th were stunned. "You were prisoners of war?"

"If you care to call it that. They just seemed intent on seeing how long it would take for us to die." Van looked at them with haunted eyes, reflected in Dana's and Kez's as they too remembered. "We've been hurt before. We've all got the scars to prove it. But what we went through there.." his voice trailed away. "It's hard to believe what the body and mind can go through. That you can reach a point that you don't even know for certain if you're awake or dreaming. If you're alive, or dead."

He took a breath. "They did something to Kitra. Don't know what. They figured out she was the leader and separated her for a time. When she came back to us, it was like she was half dead. She was catatonic for more than a week. Later she claimed she couldn't remember what they did to her, but I see it in her eyes. She doesn't want to remember. Kitra's no shrinking flower, she's not one to hide from the truth, no matter how painful or horrifying. Whatever they did to her was so bad she won't let herself remember."

"But what happened? How did you get away?"

"I don't really want to discuss it." Van began.

"But you may as well tell them." Kit's voice reached them.

Turning, they saw her standing there. They were all shocked to see the destroyed right side of her face, the ugly scars running from her hairline down her neck. "They may as well know, and they may as well hear the truth from us, than the rumours that will follow."

She took a seat next to Van, briefly touching his hand in comfort, taking the burden of the telling upon herself. The 58th could tell that whatever these four people had experienced, had rocked them to the very bottom of their souls, and weighed heavily upon their mind. Kitra may have stated that she was no longer their leader, that she had quit, yet still she automatically took up their burdens to spare her people.

"So what did happen?" Vansen asked quietly.

"We did the job we had set out to do - mission accomplished. However, the information we had been given regarding enemy fleet activity in the area was way off. We lifted off to run straight into a returning fleet. Fighters, destroyers, you name it, they were there. We didn't stand a chance. It was pure luck that kept us from being blown to pieces. Bad luck.

Predator was nothing but a useless hulk. Nothing worked, life support was failing and we were still in the planet's gravitational field, so we went into a decaying orbit. Again, by rights, we should have completely burnt up, don't ask me why we didn't. Things got pretty hot, and we were all wounded in some shape or other. All we could do was hang on. On impact we all lost consciousness. When I came to, we were all lying in a cell; concrete ceiling, walls and floor. Peta was badly hurt, we were pretty certain there were major internal injuries but we had no way of helping her.

Then the Chigs started to play games with us. The first few times they came in, they just attacked us, hand to hand. Of course we fought back. We had no weapons, and they didn't use any either. We would fight for a time, and then they would just break off and leave. This went on for a while, then they changed tactics. They began to go for Peta. She was just lying there and they just homed in on her. Naturally, we all rushed in to protect her. That seemed to be what they were looking for. That first time they fought back like you wouldn't believe. None of us got out of that one unscathed. By the time they were finished every one of us sported cuts, fractures, or concussion, but again they would break off and leave us.

We lost track of time. They didn't feed us, we managed to get water from condensation on the walls, and we all had some field rations in our pockets, but they gave us nothing. Peta was getting worse, and they just kept coming back, kept attacking Peta, kept attacking us, seeing our reaction. The worst thing was we knew they were just playing with us, but we had no choice but to go along with it. Then one day they came and dragged me off." she looked down, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "I don't remember anything of that."

She looked up again. "I don't remember being returned to the others. Van said I was out for possibly a week. They left us alone for a couple of days then began their game of cat and mouse again. Only this time they had two victims they could attack, Peta and I. Van, Kez and Dana took the brunt of that. I started to become more aware of things after a bit, and by then we all knew we had no choice but to get out, or die trying. We were dying anyway, slowly. We would rather go out quickly.

So the next time they came in, instead of waiting for them to make their move, we attacked first. They weren't expecting it at all, we seemed to manage to take them completely by surprise. Getting through the first four and reaching the two guarding the door provided us with a couple of guns. We wiped out that lot and kept going. Van was carrying Peta, Kez had the rear, I had point. We just kept moving. We met the heaviest resistance to actually break outside. That's were I got this." she touched the right side of her face.

"I took down one Chig, then another seemed to appear out of the dark like a ghost and took a swipe at me with those razor claws of theirs. It just about tore my face off. After that was just a vague blur." she took a deep breathe, before continuing. "We lost them in the dark and went to ground, staying as close to their base as we could."

"Why didn't you get away?" Wang put in.

She looked at him. "Where would we go? There was only their base on that planet, what was left of it after we had destroyed the rest. We couldn't survive out in the wilderness in the state we were in, and they were less likely to look close by than they would further afield. So we stayed close. We holed up in the basement area of one of the old warehouses. I was delirious by this time, completely out of it, Peta was barely alive, the others in little better shape.

By this time, by my calculations, I guess we had been prisoners for nearly two months, give or take a week either way. Van looked after us, after me, but without food we were all going to die, then and there. We had nothing left, our bodies had burned up all their reserves, so we were just skin and bones with no strength. We had used our last energy to get out. I was comatose for about three weeks. The first thing I remember after that, was Van urging me to swallow as he poured a soup mixture down my throat. It had small lumps of soft meat, the first solid food we had had for months. Van nursed me and the others, Van had been the only one who hadn't fallen into a catatonic state. Without him we would all have died." she glanced briefly at Van, and Dana rested a hand on his shoulder. To the four of them, they could have been the only ones in the universe. She then continued the story.

"As we got some strength back, Van told us about Peta. She knew she was dying, that there was no way she would survive. How she had managed to do so up till then was a miracle in itself. She also knew that without food the rest of us would die also. So she asked Van for the coup-de-grace, and she asked for her body to be used to feed us."

The 58th could not help but recoil at this statement, as Kitra had known they would, yet still she felt something snap inside her. "Don't look at us like that! Until you have been there, until you have lived through what we did, don't condemn us for our actions! If Peta hadn't had the courage to die for us, we wouldn't be here! And if Van hadn't had the courage to obey his sister's final wish, we would all be dead!"

They looked at Van's bowed head as her words sank in. He had killed his sister, upon her request, and alone and unsupported, cut up her flesh to provide life giving sustenance to his comrades. None of the 58th could even begin to imagine what had been gong through his mind at that time. Kitra's hand was clasped tightly around Van's.

"Van, and Peta, had more courage than any of us, and we didn't even know about it. Van continued to nurse us over the next few weeks. Over time we began to gain some strength, slowly and painfully. We then began to try and see about a way out of that place. At night we would take turns in foraying outside. At first it was in search of food, anything that would feed us and give us strength. We never went far to begin with. On one trip, we found a downed freighter, a bit damaged and unfuelled. After that, each night we would go out to do some repair work on it, syphoning fuel to it. We had decided that would be our way out. It was our only way out.

Finally, we were as ready as we were going to be. We moved off at night, and would you believe it, ran straight into a patrol that had never patrolled there before. Talk about bad luck. We had no choice, they were standing there, armed, with our ship behind them. So we charged.

Again I think it was the sheer surprise that saved us. They had expected us to run away, not towards them. We reached the ship but not before we were all just about ripped apart. One grabbed Dana by the arm and nearly tore it to shreds, I leapt on it and broke its grip, but another picked me up and flung me against the bulkhead. That's when I felt my ribs shatter. It was a most unusual feeling. Kez had got the door open, whilst Van had appropriated a gun and was laying down covering fire. Kez got Dana and I inside and we hightailed it out of there. We ran into some resistance, but managed to put enough distance between us before the drive system failed. Kez put out the mayday and that's the last any of us remember, before waking up here on the Saratoga."

"I don't know what to say." West said, shaking his head.

"There's nothing to say." Kitra replied. "We're all tired. It's going to take a long time before we're back to what we were. We just need to rest." She got to her feet and left them.

"Want a game of poker?" Wang asked.

Van raised his head. "Sure. Aces high." and they settled around the table.

A few hours later, Kitra stood at the door of the observation lounge. It was dark inside, no lights had been turned on, the only illumination coming from the stars outside and the eerie light formed by the Saratoga's passage through space. A figure stood at the window, staring out. She had felt herself drawn here. She walked in.

"Knew you would be here." she said quietly.

Hawkes turned his head towards her voice. "You've been here more than two months, and you haven't tried to see me or speak to me once."

"I know."

"Why?"

She stood half in the shadow, and he could see the left side of her face. "Because I didn't want you to see me, like this." she replied, turning her head towards him so the light fell on the ruined right side.

Hawkes looked at her, trying to imagine what she had felt when the Chig's claws had ripped into her flesh, the tearing pain. He couldn't imagine it, it was beyond him.

Slowly he raised his hand and touched the scars. She couldn't prevent herself from flinching at his faint touch. Although there was no pain, the phantom pain still remained and the nerves still expected it.

"I don't care about that. I don't care how you look." Hawkes said softly. "I just wanted to see you again. I wanted to know if you really meant the message you had sent to me."

"I meant it." she replied faintly.

"I just wanted to talk to you again."

Kitra bit her lip as it began to quiver. So much had happened to her lately, too much for the mind and body to cope with. Her emotions were raw and she felt lost and lonely.

"Hold me." she whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks. Hawkes reached out and clasped her to his chest burying his face in her hair. He could feel her silent tears soaking his shirt. "Please. Just hold me." and so he did.

They stood there at the window, bathed in the starlight, two people alone in the world, needing each other, wanting each other, loving each other, in a world gone mad with war.

With Hawkes strong arms around her, feeling her need for him and his need for her, looking out at the stars, all Kitra could feel was a sense of loss.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: I'll Return…..Someday: Chapter 6

Author: JadeHeart

Located/Archived: Found on If anyone would like it, please ask me first!

Fandom: Space: Above & Beyond

Rating: M

Created: December 2005

Warnings: violence, angst,

Timeline: Not sure exactly when. Just somewhere in the middle of the season I guess.

Characters: Wildcards/McQueen/Kitra and a cast of other OCs)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, they belong to the creators of 'Space: Above & Beyond', nor am I making any profits from this.

Chapter 6

"Come in." Kitra said, looking up to see McQueen entering. She sat at the table, half empty bottle before her and glass in hand.

"Not interrupting I hope."

"Not at all." was her reply. She held up the glass. "Drink?"

McQueen shook his head. "No thanks." She shrugged, downing the last in the glass. McQueen watched as she refilled it. He could see that her hand shook a little. "Does that help?"

"Help what?"

"To forget."

She looked up at him with eyes that had seen too much. "No." she looked down. "Nothing does." she took a long swallow. "What can I do for you, Colonel?" she asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Nothing. I was asked to speak to you."

She grinned without humour. "Let me guess. Van."

"That's right."

She shook her head with a half smile. "So what did he want you to say to me?"

"To ask you to reconsider your decision."

"No. I'm no use to them."

"You're the only one who could be of use to them." She frowned at him so he continued. "They aren't going to disband. You know that."

"They can if they want to."

"They can't. What would they do if they did? Where could they go? They have no home to go back to. Their friends and families are all dead. All they have is each other. They have nothing left to them but to continue the fight. Of trying to do some good in this war. They've been fighting too long to give up."

"They don't need me. Van's good enough to lead them."

McQueen shook his head. "You know that's a lie. Yes, he's good. But you're better, in ways that can't even be measured. Leaders don't just happen. A good commander has to understand, to know, their people. You're a good commander, you know you are. You're good because you can outthink the enemy and you can help your people to survive."

She laughed grimly at that. "I've got three people left out of eleven! I hardly call that a great track record!"

"That is exceptional, considering the number of years you have been together and the type of missions you take. Taking all that into consideration, your retention rate is unbelievable. Think about this last mission. With the odds stacked against you, you got out with only one dead. I've seen other missions go wrong like yours did and none survived. You can't deny the facts. Yes, you've had luck on your side, but also a lot of that luck has come from the way you work as a unit."

"Look, they can ask the military to give them someone, someone like you, who is a good commander and who could lead them."

"The military don't have the necessary personnel to do the type of jobs that you've done."

She stared at the bottle before her. "I can't do it, McQueen. I can't watch them die anymore."

"I know. But could you live with yourself knowing they will probably die quicker because you are not there?" She didn't answer him as he moved to the door and then looked back for a moment. "Like it or not, you owe them to continue to keep them alive. And you're their best hope of staying alive longer. Can you really turn your back on them?" and he left.

Kitra stared at the glass in her hand, before swallowing the last of it. She closed her eyes and leant the empty glass against her forehead, as tears trickled down her cheeks.

She found her people in the rec room. The 58th were on patrol, so she knew they would be alone. She had spent as much time with Hawkes as she could but they had become no more intimate than a kiss. She could not tell him, or anyone, what had happened to her, what the Chigs had done to her. She had slept very little, unless she was drugged, for the nightmares would wrack her each time. Not even her own people knew what had happened, and she knew that it would go to the grave with her.

"How's things?" she asked, standing by the table.

"Quiet. Boring." Van answered, shuffling a deck of cards.

"Well, this will liven it up. McQueen had a chat to me. You still want me?"

"Of course!" Van nearly shouted, staring at her.

"Okay, you've got me." Kez let out a whoop of joy and she raised her hand to quieten him. "Steady on. I've let the military know that I'm back in and they've got a job lined up for us. So now we decide what we do. I don't think we're in any shape to do anything at the moment. So we can either take the job, or we can tell the military to shove it."

"What will we do if we don't take it?" Kez asked, twirling a pen in his hand.

"Stay on the Saratoga. Relax, until we find a place we want to get off. We've still got the Mantis and that's been patched up so it's better than new. It should be, considering it's been practically rebuilt."

"And if we take the job?"

"Personally, I think we'll be blown away in the state we're in. But then that's neither here nor there."

"I don't want to stay here." Dana put in quietly.

Something in her voice made Kitra look at her sharply. "Why?"

"We don't fit in. We didn't really before. Now, less than ever."

"What's been going on?" If her people had been mistreated whilst on the Saratoga she would have more than words to say.

Dana held out her prosthetic arm. "This sets us apart. I'm tired of being avoided like I've got the plague. I'm sick of people looking like they'll throw up when they see me."

Kitra frowned, glancing at Van and Kez. "Is that how it is?" They nodded. She held up her own metallic left hand, seeming to see it for the first time. "I hadn't noticed."

"You haven't been around the ship much. You haven't been with the general people here. They can't help it."

She shook her head again. "I hadn't realised."

"You wouldn't." Van said, not accusingly. "You look at us and see only us, you don't see the metal bits, you see the person. Other people don't. All they see are the scars and missing pieces. We don't belong here."

She looked down at her prosthetic hand again, flexing the fingers before looking up. "Okay. We don't stay on the Saratoga. So what do we do?"

"Do we have to take the job now? Is there some particular reason?" Kez asked leaning forward.

"Not that I know of. At least we haven't been given a deadline."

"Then could we maybe rest up for a bit and then do it?"

"Don't see why not. Is that what you all want to do? You're all saying we're back in business?"

Dana glanced at Van who nodded. "I guess we are, but Kez is right. We need to rest up for a bit. We're in lousy shape, and we need to get used to these nuts and bolts. Until we're familiar with what we can and can't do, then we shouldn't do the job."

"Alright, I'll tell them we'll take the job, but we do it when we're ready and not before. If they're not happy with that they can find someone else. Fair enough?"

They all nodded agreement.

"So where do we go to relax?" Van asked.

"Could make it back to my place." Kitra put in. "Plenty of space there so we wouldn't be bothered by people. Nice clean, fresh air."

"It'll probably kill us." Kez slipped in.

"Unlikely." retorted Kitra good naturedly. "I should see my folks. If they're still there."

"You haven't been in touch?"

"Not since Bel and I left."

"So they don't know?" meaning about her survival and Bel's subsequent death.

She shook her head. "If they're there, they'll be more than happy to have you all."

"You sure?"

"Course. Besides, you don't think I'm about to face them alone, do you?"

"Coward."

"You don't know my parents. My mother could talk the hind leg off a donkey! And she thinks the cure for all ills is food, and I just can't eat it all myself!"

"Well, that sounds like a plan to me. When are we going to leave?"

"When do you want to?"

"As soon as possible."

"Okay, do the final checks on Mantis and let's get out of here. You don't have any good-byes to say?"

"No. Let's do this quietly. You?" Van knew Kitra still had strong feelings for Hawkes.

"Not this time. I'll send our confirmation and meet you there."

Kitra found McQueen in his quarters. "Making a bad habit of this, aren't I?" she said as she opened the door.

"Come on in." he invited.

"Thought I'd better tell you, I'm back on the team. You were right. I couldn't leave them. Yes, they'll keep dieing, but I'll join them eventually. And to be honest, I'd rather die in their company than live without it. They belong to me, just as I belong to them. I've let your military know. We've also got a job to do, but we're doing it on our time. We need to get some rest. We've got more than physical injuries to heal, we need time so we're going to take it. Then do the job later."

"So you're staying on the Saratoga?"

She shook her head. "No. We don't belong here, and we're not comfortable here. We're leaving, as soon as Mantis checks out. We don't want it known that we're going." She put her hand out. "Thank you. For everything. I don't have much time for the military, you know that. You're the best I've ever met. Don't ever change." McQueen clasped her proffered hand and they shook. Then she stepped forward and surprised him by placing a kiss upon his cheek. "Take care, McQueen."

"Maybe we'll meet again?"

She turned from the door and shook her head. "No. You've been there for us twice now, and we thank you for it. But we won't be back."

McQueen stood looking at the closed door for some time, sensing that her last words were only too true, and that would be the last time he would see her.

"Close the door!" Kitra called, watching Dana roll the last of the supplies in.

"Trouble." Van said under his breath, looking over Kitra's shoulder. She turned her head to see the 58th arriving at a run.

She sighed and glanced back at Van. "Guess we don't get away unscathed." she said and taking a breath turned to face them.

"You've got a bad habit of trying to sneak away." West said sharply. "Isn't our company good enough for you anymore?"

She frowned at him. "What we decide to do is our own business, and certainly none of yours. And we don't fancy staying here any longer. It's already been long enough for us."

"What do you mean?" Damphousse queried, looking hurt.

"We have no intention of staying where we're regarded as freaks."

"You're not..." Vansen began, but Kitra interrupted fiercely. "Don't tell us what we're not! We are freaks! We didn't fit in before. This," and she held up her metallic hand in a fist. "sets us apart even more! We're made up of so many spare parts you can hardly still call us human! And what we've seen and done separates us further! You don't walk through the corridors of this ship and have people press up against the bulkhead to avoid touching you as you pass. You don't have to tolerate the looks of pity, disgust and revulsion. You don't have to sit opposite someone in the mess and watch them turn away to be sick when they take one look at this!" and she pointed to her own ruined face.

"Look, we know you've been through a lot. We understand..." West tried to say, but Kitra interrupted again. "Don't talk to us about understanding what we've been through or what's happened to us! Until you've been to Hell, lived it, survived it and clawed your way back out, you don't have any idea of what it's like! We don't belong here, we don't belong anywhere, except together!"

The 58th looked at Kitra and the three others ranged behind them. Kitra's words had made it much clearer to them and they could look at them now with new eyes. They were right; it wasn't just the prosthetics, Kez's glowing red eye, the scars, that set them apart. They had the same look in their eyes, an aura about them that set them apart from others and bound them to each other. They were right - they only had each other.

"Well, maybe we'll see you around." Wang said.

"No." was Kitra's hard reply. "Twice the Saratoga has found us. There won't be a third time. I can guarantee that."

Kitra jerked her head back and her people silently turned and entered the ship. She stood one moment longer looking at the 58th then turned and left also, and without a backward glance the door swished shut behind her. Silently the 58th vacated the hanger and watched as the Mantis disappeared from sight.

McQueen was in their quarters when they arrived back. He looked at their down-hearted expressions, Hawkes's stunned disbelief.

"You've all got messages on the private band. Go to the communications deck."

Hawkes sat before the console and punched in his code and password to access the message. The screen flickered and then showed Kitra. His hand hovered over the erase button.

"Don't turn me off, Coop. I know that's probably what you want to do. Not that I really blame you. You probably hate me for sneaking off without saying goodbye. Again. Though I somehow expect you'll show up before we go. Just have that feeling." the image shrugged.

"Well, I don't know if you did. Or what I would have said to you. Probably something bad. I really do hate goodbyes. Anyway, I've left messages for you all; West, Vansen, Damphousse and Wang. We all wanted to. We're not leaving because of any of you. We like to think of you all as our friends, but we can't stay here, we just don't belong. It's funny how life turns out, isn't it? Look at the two of us. If only things had been different."

She smiled then. "Who am I kidding? If things were different, if we weren't at war, we would never have even met." She became serious again. "Maybe that would have been better for us both. " She lifted her left hand, the metal one, hesitated a moment and then change to her right and rubbed it across her eyes.

"No, I've never wished that. I'm glad to have met you, to have known you. You're more important to me than anything else. Except my people, and I don't think you'll begrudge me that. But even you can't change the past. Or make me forget. Those memories would have torn us apart sooner or later.

I've left something for you. It's not much, but it's all I have, all I can give you. If you can ever forgive me, I hope you'll keep it to remember me by. And what ever happens, Cooper, remember I do love you. That hasn't changed, nor will it ever change, and it doesn't matter if you're an in vitro or a human, you are still a person. A very special person, and don't let anyone, ever, tell you otherwise. Stay alive, Coop. Stay alive for me."

The message ended and upon its end code, a small drawer opened. Cooper reached his hand inside and withdrew a piece of cloth. Something was wrapped inside. Slowly he unwrapped it, to reveal a ring. A ring that he had seen on Kitra's hand from the time he had known her. A ring that had been given to her by her beloved brother, Bel, many years ago. A ring she had never taken off and it had survived through all she had.

Hawkes held it between his fingers as her voice echoed in his head. "Remember, I do love you." He slipped it onto the small finger of his left hand. It fitted there as though made for him, and he clenched his fingers, feeling the smooth metal.

He would remember.


End file.
